September

The air is dry, scented with fading lavender and blooming peppermint that line my walkway.

Pears and apples are falling, those that the squirrels haven’t already claimed.

My rose bushes are still bearing buds, promising a few more blossoms.

The grass is brown and will remain that way until October rains come.

Sounds of school — buses slowing to turn our corner, voices of children walking our sidewalks, and dismissal bells — are binding up the loose routines that filled summer.

It is September.

When September arrives, I feel such a mix of emotions, for I hate to say goodby to summer, but I love fall’s brilliantly warm colors and bonfire evenings.

Yesterday I admired some sunflowers that towered above me. Coupled with thoughts of our waning summer, these sunflowers inspired me to draft a poem. Not sure of its title, not sure it’s finished, but I’ll share it anyway.

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7 Comments

cmargocs
on September 5, 2019 at 2:43 am

I love the phrase “binding up the loose routines”–so apt! The personification of the sunflower and the sun gave me thoughtful pause…and looks like a great writing prompt for students, too. Now if only those cooler temps would make their way to Texas…

Mmm… the structure of the poem really catches my attention, as do the grace and melancholy of the voice. Yes, though I know it will return, I mourn the passing of summer. That said, I’m glad to get to read your posts again.